


A Lesson In Patience

by Novaturient



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Hell, Dubious Consent, Gen, Hell, Implied/Referenced Torture, Pre-Slash, Shippy Gen, Teaching, Teasing, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, Torture, Torturer Dean, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 14:29:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novaturient/pseuds/Novaturient
Summary: Dean was a good student, no doubt about it. He just needed to learn the value of restraint.





	A Lesson In Patience

Alastair looked at the soul dangling from the rack, and made a noise.

“What?” Dean asked with none too little irritation. “Not good enough for you?”

Oh, that just wouldn’t do. Alastair tilted his head, turning his gaze to Dean and giving a cold, blunt reply. “No, it’s not good enough for me. I expect more from you, if you’re going to be my protege.”

“I did what you told me to do. I don’t know what you expect from me.”

“I’m still figuring that out, myself,” Alastair replied. It was the truth. There were several ways that this could play out, and Alastair had yet to decide which one would be most beneficial; it had only been a few weeks since Dean had caved. The human was getting better, still, there were definitely some... _kinks_... to work out. “But I can tell you what you did wrong, here.”

Dean twirled his bloodied knife, giving the mangled soul one last, vehement glare. As if it was their fault that his day had just gotten ruined, and not his own from being sloppy. “Fine.”

Alastair smiled, grabbing Deans wrist and tugging. “Good. Follow me.”

For a bit, Dean played along. He was too curious not to, and Alastair knew this, but the minute that Alastair started leading Dean to a very familiar rack in Alastair’s workshop... That was when the struggling began. It was cute, but Alastair was stronger than Dean, and had him shackled down in a matter or minutes. He could have just snapped his fingers and had the human on the rack in a blink, but Alastair preferred the hands-on approach; it took longer, but the fight was amusing for Alastair, and it made Dean just a little more pliable once he’d calmed down.

“What are you-- hey!”

“Relax, Dean,” Alastair crooned. 

“You said this was done!” Dean yelled, flailing. His eyes were wide, terrified, and the poor thing was already sweating. “You said you weren’t gonna--”

“I said I wasn’t going to torture you anymore. And I’m not going to.”

“Then what are you doing?!”

“Teaching you a lesson.” Circling around the rack, Alastair slowly trailed his fingers across Dean’s skin, starting at his scalp and edging the touch across Deans cheek. He stopped at Dean’s side when Dean’s eyes fluttered closed; Alastair stroked along Deans jaw, across his lips, down his neck. “Yes, you did _what_ I told you to do, but you didn’t really do it... _how_ it should have been done.” 

Dean shivered when Alastair’s fingers danced along his collarbone. “Wanna clarify that for me, chief?”

“You’re too impatient. When you’re working a soul, you have to take your time. They need time to adjust to their position, to comprehend what’s happening to them. This isn’t just about pain, Dean. It’s about punishment. The subject needs to realize what they’ve done wrong, and why it was wrong, otherwise it won’t take. And that takes discipline.” Alastair traced the outline of Dean’s heart, before moving lower along his abdomen. He was starting to squirm, and Alastair smiled. “It takes self-control.”

“I’m...” Dean’s words cracked when Alastair dragged his fingernails along Dean’s ribcage, digging in harder around his hips. “I’m not good at those, if we’re... mm, being honest.”

“Not yet. You will be.”

Dean licked his lips. “Yeah? Think so, huh?”

“Yes.” Alastair stopped, just above Dean’s waistband. “I guarantee it.”

“Alastair...”

There was a tiny bit of begging in those words. Lesson over. 

Clapping his hands, Alastair stepped back and snapped his fingers, suddenly releasing Dean from his bonds and dropping the hunter to the floor. He beamed when Dean glared up at him; there was a little less anger in the look, and a little more exasperation. And, dare he say, the first hints of resignation. Ah! Beautiful progress. “Now. Let’s go try this again. What do you say, kid?”

“Yes, sir.”

 _Better_. Much, _much_ better.


End file.
